


Hidden Meaning

by Talithax



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Love, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 07:59:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9712469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talithax/pseuds/Talithax
Summary: Something unexpected in the news has an even more unexpected result...(A Love Story for St Valentine's Day, really...)





	

**Author's Note:**

> ~ Narrated by Will, self beta'd.
> 
> ~ Having just checked the date on Google, I actually wrote this on the 26th of June, 2015. (The heading of the news article is 100% correct, and of that very date.) I then... felt appalled at myself for having written something so... uh... soppy... and promptly went out of my way to pretend it didn't even exist. (Something, for what it's worth, I'm rather good at.) A couple of weeks ago I forced myself to finally re-read it, and... You know what? I actually didn't hate it and decided that it might make a nice enough fic to post on Valentine's Day.
> 
> ~ Did I mention the soppiness?
> 
> ~ And, yes. It's very much a love story.
> 
> ~ Enjoy!

==============  
Hidden Meaning  
by TalithaX  
==============

 

Waking with a start, I open my eyes, gaze up at the darkened mass of the ceiling and wait for the last remnants of the already fading dream to wash over me. The sense of panic I'd felt in my sleep dissipating with the slowing of my heartbeat, I bite back a sigh and gently, so as not to wake Ethan who's still sound asleep next to me, sit up. Wide awake now and knowing from past experiences that going straight back to sleep would be nothing short of impossible, I carefully lift up my side of the bedding and swing my legs over the edge of the mattress before standing up and smoothing the covers back over Ethan. Neither my ministrations nor the way I would have surely had to have jerked awake only a moment or so ago having any effect on him, he sleeps on, oblivious to my fussing, and this only reiterates to me just how exhausted this last mission has left him and how, contrary to whether it's something we want to think about or not, we're not getting any younger.

Yes. We succeeded.

Yes. We'll pay, just as we always do, the physical and emotional cost. 

Yes. For the all important greater good, it was worth it.

And, yes. We'll do it again.

We'll wear the scars and the nightmares, and we'll put ourselves through hell and near death experiences, because...

It's what we do.

We save the day.

And it doesn't have to matter that some times, just some times, I feel as though something small is dying inside of me with each – too close for comfort – near miss.

Annoyed with myself for falling prey to the sort of dark thoughts I usually fight so hard to ignore, I run my fingers through my hair and, with one last glance at Ethan, walk silently out of the bedroom and into the suite's main room.

Another mission. Another asshole who had to be either stopped or brought to justice. Another bland, despite its alleged five-star rating, hotel. Another nightmare that, although I already can't even remember any specifics of it, lingers over me like a shroud. Another sleepless night away from both home and the delusion of ever having anything like a normal life.

Detouring by the bar fridge, I grab a bottle of water out of it and wander over to take a seat on the sofa. Although there's just enough dull light in the room to see relatively clearly by, I switch on the lamp by the sofa and pick up my iPad from the coffee-table. Making myself comfortable, I crack open the water bottle and take a quick drink before waking up the tablet and, solely for something to do, bringing up the New York Times. Skipping over both the lead article about an ISIS massacre in Tunisia and the one about a gruesome beheading in France because, hey, I'm already in a depressed enough state as it is, I'm in the process of rethinking my intelligence at having turned to the Times for a way to kill time when I should have – used my brains – just hit up Youtube for the latest in cat videos, when a different article entirely catches my eye. 

One that, in the midst of all of the death and terror, actually brings a smile to my lips.

Supreme Court Ruling Makes Same-Sex Marriage A Right Nationwide.

Granted, it's not something I've ever personally been all that concerned with or, for that matter, even paid any particular attention to, but I'm still pleased for both those who have fought long and hard for it, and for those who are now going to be able to benefit from it. In fact, as I'll take any old positive that I can get right at the moment, I'm actually pretty fucking delighted at the unexpected news. Sure, it won't stop the discrimination or the perfectly pointless hatred by the mean spirited or petty minded, but it'll still be legal for everyone to marry anyone of their damn choosing and I, for one, think it's just fantastic.

So fantastic, even, that it's enough to both lighten my mood and make me proud to be American.

“Will?” Ethan, his voice groggy with sleep, calls out with obvious consternation from the bedroom. “You okay?”

“I'm out here,” I reply, quickly returning the lid to the water bottle and placing it on the coffee-table. “Don't get up. I'll...”

“Too late,” he interrupts from the doorway as, swivelling around on the sofa to look at him, he gives me a tired, yet unbothered smile and starts to limp closer. “Like you, I'm awake now, so...” Trailing off as he spots the iPad in my hand, the smile dies on his lips as he shakes his head and sighs. “Not much liking what I saw on there before going to bed, please don't tell me you're reading online news sites. Will... I know how your mind operates, remember, and I don't think...”

“In the paper today, tales of war and of waste, but you turn right over to the T.V. page,” I murmur, cutting Ethan off as, smiling, I gesture with the iPad for him to take a seat on either the sofa or the nearby armchair.

“Isn't that from a song?” Ethan queries as, choosing the armchair possibly because it was closest, he sinks down into it with a look of relief that he's just a little too slow in hiding.

“Mmm...” I nod. “Crowded House. Don't Dream It's Over.”

“Uh-huh. And... What? It was your way of telling me that what you're really doing is sitting out here studying the T.V. guide?”

“No. I just...” Shrugging, I lean forward and hand Ethan the iPad. “I just thought it was kind of apt, that's all. Not only skipping over the inevitable tales of war and waste, but also how, for some, it probably really... is... a don't dream, it's over moment. Just... Look. Look at what our Supreme Court has just done. I know, I know. It was already legal in the majority of the states, but... I don't know... Knowing that no state now has the legal right to discriminate just makes me happy.”

“Wow...” Glancing down at the tablet, Ethan skims over the article on the screen and, as just what it is I was babbling on about sinks in, smiles. “You're right, it really is all kinds of amazing, isn't it...”

“Not to mention long overdue, and...” Catching Ethan's eye as he places the iPad on the arm of the chair, I flash him a grin that, to my delight, he returns without hesitation. “It's just awesome, that's what it is, and... And it's made my day.”

“I can see that,” he replies as, cocking his head to the side, he gives me an odd, vaguely unreadable look. “Now... Don't get me wrong, because, if you must know, my favourite bit about all of this right now is how pleased you are about it, but...” Pausing, he looks me in the eye and shrugs. “Marriage. It's just not something I've ever heard you mention before.”

“It's not about me or the fact that it's not going to have any impact on my life whatsoever,” I reply, “it's about... equality... and the way, if it's what they want, anyone can now get legally married. I know I've never mentioned it before, and to be perfectly honest with you it's not something I've ever been personally interested in, but... Let's put it this way. If I was the protesting, placard waving, petition writing type, I'd have been behind the ability of everyone, regardless of sexual orientation, to marry all the way.”

“But...” His expression one of confusion, Ethan sighs and shakes his head. “I get what you're saying and, I'm with you, the news is fabulous and all that, but... It's still not something you'd be personally interested in?”

“I don't need a piece of paper, legally binding or otherwise, to tell me that I love you, that I'll... always love you,” I murmur, shifting along the sofa and placing my hand lightly on Ethan's thigh. “Or that, for you, I'll forsake all others, and that it... it's already 'til death do us part.”

“When you put it that way,” he replies, placing his hand warmly over mine, “what's a piece of paper, anyway...”

“It can be whatever you want it to be,” I respond, “and that's what makes this decision so important. If it's what you want, what you feel as though you've been fighting your entire life for, then it's absolutely brilliant and I truly hope the piece of paper makes the world of difference to you, but...”

“It's not for you?”

“It's not something I've ever felt my life was incomplete without, no.”

“So...” Picking up my hand, Ethan squeezes it in his. “If I were to ask you to marry me, your answer would be... no, then...”

“What? I...” Never, not for so much as a second, having expected to be having this sort of conversation with Ethan, let alone for him to be giving every indication of taking it so seriously, I don't know how to reply and just stare, I suspect with my mouth hanging open, at him in shock.

“And... Going on your expression alone, there's my answer,” he mutters, his expression once again giving nothing away as he drops his gaze to his lap. “It's okay, Will. It's only a piece of paper, after all.”

“No...”

“It's okay. I get it.”

“No...” Turning my hand over in Ethan's, I entwine our fingers together and wait until he's glancing over at me through downcast eyes before whispering, “If you were to ask me that, then... the answer would be yes...”

“Even though...”

“It's only a piece of paper that, to me, wouldn't change a thing,” I finish with both a nod and a quick smile. “I... I'd still say yes. And, the reason I'd say yes is because it means something different to everyone and, by asking, I'd know that it clearly meant something... important... to you.”

“Just like that,” Ethan states dubiously, his expression still on the unreadable side.

I give another quick nod. “Yes. Just like that. I'm not, even if I don't personally think it'll change a thing, against marriage, Ethan, and if at any stage it's what you truly want, I... I'll be there.”

“Piece of paper or not, it worked well for my parents and, I suppose, part of me has always wanted what I grew up being a part of,” he murmurs perhaps a little hesitantly. “It just...I don't know... It's just something I've always, I suppose, held out hope for. I know I failed, and how, once, but...”

“What we have is, and always has been, different,” I interrupt, “so don't compare the two.”

“Mmm...” His expression brightening as, or so I'm thinking anyway, he comes up with a way to quickly move things onto a far lighter path than we'd been heading toward, Ethan grins at me and laughs. “What do you think, would Benji be of the opinion that all of his Christmases had come at once if we handed him the role of wedding planner?”

“Oh God, don't...” Mock groaning, I pull a face and quickly shake my head. “Can you imagine it? We'd probably have to take our vows in Klingon while wearing Jedi robes!”

“Nice,” Ethan chuckles. “Goes well, too, with my initial thought of how his number one goal, if he could find a way to make it happen, of course, would be to get the ceremony to take place on the main stage at Comic-Con.”

“Oh God,” I repeat with another, far more genuine this time, groan. “You know... I can picture it, too. I don't want to, but I can, and... You're right. If there was any way he could make it happen, he'd be all over it, and...” Mentally waving the white flag of defeat, I start to laugh. “Just... No. It doesn't bear thinking about.”

“Mmm... Okay. So we're both on the same page, then, that we'd have to give him some very clear and precise directions.”

“Very clear. Very, very clear.”

“Geek-free?”

“Preferably.”

“Black tie?”

“Definitely.”

“Mmm?”

“Well, if you're going to do something, do it properly.”

“Fair enough.”

“Besides, you know me. I'll never miss an opportunity to force Jane into a dress!”

“Ah... Good point.” His expression suddenly clouding over, Ethan pulls his hand free of mine and, without looking at me, shifts closer to the edge of the armchair. “So... If you're going to do something, do it properly, yeah?”

“Well... Seeing as the alternative is to do it half-assed,” I murmur as, uncertain as to where any of this is going, I follow Ethan's lead by shifting closer to the edge of the sofa, “and... uh... that's not how we do things, is it...”

“No. You're right. We don't.” Nodding to himself, Ethan, pushes away from the armchair and, with a grimace, starts to lower himself down into a kneeling position.

“Hey! Whoa!” Not wanting him to put his injured knee under any extra strain, I quickly place my hand on his shoulder and shake my head. “That's enough of that. Your knee...”

“My knee will survive,” he mutters dismissively as, shrugging off my hand, he kneels before me, “besides, it's... traditional and it... it's all that I've got.”

“What are you talk...”

“For someone so bright, you sure can be dense at times,” Ethan interrupts with a laugh as, rolling his eyes, he takes my hand in his and gives me the most beautiful smile. “William Brandt, I know it's only a piece of paper to you, but... Will you marry me?”

“I...” I may not know or, for that matter, ever truly know just what it is, be it simply a spur-of-the-moment response to the Supreme Court's decision or be it something he's actually been thinking about for a while, that's going through Ethan's mind right now, but what I do know is that my answer isn't one I even have to think about. No, it's not something I've ever felt any need for, but if it's what Ethan, for whatever reason, wants, then... “Yes. If seeing our names together on a piece of paper works for you, then... Yes. A thousand times, yes. Of course I'll marry you.”

“That, as I can't even begin to put into words just how much this means to me, is what I was very much hoping you'd say,” Ethan states, his expression one of great relief as he places his other hand around mine and just beams up at me. “I know I don't have a ring, but...”

“Who needs a ring when, in due course, there'll be that bit of paper,” I murmur as, taken aback by how emotional I suddenly feel, I slowly stand up before helping Ethan a little unsteadily to his feet and wrapping my arms around him. “I... Damn it, Ethan! I don't even know how you've done it, but... You've got me. I've fallen for this idea hook, line, and sinker, and... I'm with you all the way.”

“You just needed a bit of gentle pushing in the right direction, that's all,” he replies, his breath warm on my ear as he hugs me back. “And, while, okay, I get that this has all been very random to you, it's actually something I made up my mind about ages ago.”

“Oh, you did, did you?”

“Mmm... I was going to ask you either when we retired, or... once it was legal in all states as, well, I wanted it to be valid in wherever we ended up living. So... It was just a case of which ever one came first.”

“Ah... Romantic pragmatism. I like it.” And what's more, as it shows that this really is something Ethan's thought about in some detail, I do, too. “I... You know something? I also like how it was done. While it's not something I ever expected, it... it just strikes me as the perfect way to celebrate this... amazing... landmark decision and, even though you were stuck with me anyway, I... I want this. I, no pun intended, do. I want our names together on that piece of paper and, one day, when we're retired and don't have to worry about the bad guys seeing them and putting two and two together, I want the rings as well.”

“And you'll get them,” Ethan whispers, kissing the tip of my nose before settling his lips on mine and giving me a quick, passionate kiss that I feel throughout my entire body. “One day,” he adds thickly as he cups my cheek in his palm, “all of this, the hotels and the danger and the always having to be on the move, will be over and... we'll just be an old married couple, getting on each other's nerves and reminiscing about the... good old days of getting shot at in exotic places, but the most important thing is...”

“We'll still be together,” I finish with both a smile and a lingering kiss to Ethan's smooth cheek before, somewhat to my anticlimactic annoyance, stifling a yawn. “Now, as celebrating with champagne is out because of the damn pills the doc has us on for our latest selection of spectacular bruises and injuries, not to mention the small fact of life that I'm starting to get both a little cold and a little tired, how about we just head back to bed, yeah?”

Nodding, Ethan slides his arm around my waist and, as I settle in next to him, leads me towards the bedroom. “Seeing as you must have got up for a reason, you're... okay now?”

“I got up because I had a dream that I can't even remember, and... while I wasn't there for a moment, I... I'm more than okay now.” Coming to a stop by the foot of the bed, I grab Ethan for another hug and, as he immediately replies in kind by wrapping his arm around my back, just cling to him and, in a sense, all he represents. His warmth, the sense of security I always get when I'm with him, the unshakeable knowledge that this is where he wants to be, that...

… He wants to be with me.

Always.

And he wants a small piece of paper to prove it.

One that, I know now, means as much to me as it clearly does to him.

“Ignoring the fact I may live to regret this, I'm down with putting Benji in charge of proceedings on... one proviso,” I murmur, nuzzling his cheek as he locks his hands together and rests them on the small of my back.

“Name it,” he replies without hesitation. “Having already gotten what I wanted, I'm happy now to just go along for the ride.”

“After the ceremony, I want fireworks,” I state, grinning at Ethan as, no doubt unable to help himself, he gives me a look that's as surprised as it is amused. “I want brilliant, rainbow coloured fireworks so that anyone looking up at the night sky will know that there's a celebration going on.”

~ end ~


End file.
